


Blue Sun, Yellow Daffodil

by TheNatureKing



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gen, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Kidnapping, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNatureKing/pseuds/TheNatureKing
Summary: “I desire you next to my throne. You will return with me.”
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22
Collections: Challenge #6 — Rise of Kingdoms





	Blue Sun, Yellow Daffodil

**Author's Note:**

> hello...i usually write longer things and maybe you'll get a sense of that when you read this haha, but i hope you find my entry enjoyable! bc of my predisposition towards producing longer works, it was quite the challenge to fit this under 1000 words haha! i wouldn't have been able to do it without help from the incredible @XiuChen4Ever! i would also like to thank the tinysparks organizers for hosting such a fun, weekly challenge and lemme give a big shout out to the other writers of this round! everyone worked hard and deserves to be recognized, so please be sure to check out some of the other stories from this round haha anyways without further ado, Blue Sun, Yellow Daffodil awaits you!

Striking was the yellow daffodil rooted amongst the wildflowers, the sole of its kind. It swayed gently on a sea-salted wind that did not exist. The flower was unlike any Jongdae had seen before. 

The bottoms of his sandaled soles tingled, and he rose cautiously, alarmed by the increasing ferocity of the earth’s tremors. This was unnatural. This was not a quake from the seas. This came from below.

And come from below, it did.

The land first swallowed the daffodil before caving in on itself. Left was a starving chasm, wide enough for four coal-black horses to blaze through. They drove a chariot fashioned of carved bone, so starkly white it appeared to glow under the harsh sunlight. Their fiery bodies scorched the flora to ash as they circled the meadow, their loops shrinking with each halo.

Jongdae pinched his nose. Blue flames danced about the carriage, concealing the rider’s identity; but the putrid smell of burning flesh fouling the air was familiar even to a child. This perfume that reeked of death accompanied those from Underre, the subterranean kingdom inhabited by Undead creatures and ruled by their immortal warlock—the Dreadful King.

A sharp whistle cracked the air, and the horses slowed their gait. The rumbling ceased, and the earth stilled.

The blue flames flared, then flickered into wisps of smoke as the King’s midnight cloak swept through them. Dismounting, he strode across the field, trampling the wildflowers without remorse. 

His cloak must have contained a thousand tiny stars woven amongst the pelt, for it shimmered like a crystal lake’s reflection of the night sky. It shrouded the full extent of his armored apparel, practically consuming him whole. Only the top half of his face remained uncovered behind his mask, and his black, unruly hair spilled around it. 

“Prince of Sito. I desire you next to my throne,” he declared. “You will return with me.” 

With a snap of his fingers, the chasm roared to life, and the beautiful wildflower meadow slipped from the sun’s reaches. With nowhere to run and his screams unheard, Jongdae plummeted into the abyss.

* * *

The upturned meadow cushioned Jongdae’s fall. Clear sky was now a ceiling of solid dirt where patches of tweeds dangled freely.

A wooden torch hung on the northernmost wall, offering a dim blue flame that provided little visibility. 

The walls were blue-bricked and tall, enclosing him within six faces. No windows. No doors. Six strides from one end to the other. Six.

The air sat still, unmoving, and he felt as if he had to force the stale air into his lungs. Breathing left an unpleasant aftertaste of mildew.

A clump of soil pelted Jongdae in the face, and he sighed.

These conditions were worse than a dungeon.

How long would he remain here? 

Jongdae stared at the flame until he heard one wall groaning, shifting,  _ opening. _ A door amongst the brick revealed itself, and in the opening, the King’s hulking silhouette filled the frame. His shadow stretched long into the room. 

“Come,” he said, before turning on his heel.

Jongdae hesitated, then dusted himself off, languishing over the grass and dirt stains that littered his fine silk trousers. A licked thumb only smeared the earthly colors around his tan clothes. He stepped out into the end of a hallway, so there was no question where to go. There was only one path, and blue torches lit his way down the smooth cobblestoned corridor after the King’s twinkling, retreating figure.

The corridor opened into a large room connecting four other hallways. The King stood by the most central hall, waiting. Wordlessly, he started down that hall, and Jongdae followed suit.

“Where are you taking me?” 

The King’s voice did not echo in the hall. In this realm, it seemed to leave him like a dying soul’s last breath. It took Jongdae half the travel time to piece together, “To the throne room.” Much clearer, he announced, “We’ve arrived.”

The chamber was as plain and bleak as his cell, with a few exceptions. Two bone-crafted throne seats were positioned in front of a fireplace that shimmered faintly with the glimmer of icy blue coal.

Over two dozen tiny skulls ornamented the biggest of the thrones, which the King claimed, and had two mortal-sized skulls as handrests. The smaller chair, with the thin bones that comprised it, looked fragile enough to snap under any weight.

“Be seated. Here, beside me.”

As Jongdae neared, he realized why the King wore such heavy garments. The raging hellfire of Underre was not blazing hot like the sun that had melted Icarus’s wings, but instead was freezing cold and left a permanent chill to the air that stained their breath when they spoke.

Suddenly, he was regretful of the fine quality of his silk clothing. The air seeped into his skin, and a phantom chill haunted his bones.

“You are trembling, but it is not from fear, I see.” The King sounded impressed. He snapped, and a violet-lipped, fish-skinned servant appeared, holding a thick blanket. It draped it over the King’s lap, bowed and scampered back into the shadows. The King held the blanket out. “For you. Take it. I wove these blankets with the hair of our finest hellhounds. A thousand of them would melt the snow from Mount Mytikas.”

Jongdae scoffed, but wrapped himself in the thick material. Instantly, warmth returned to him, as if hugging the sun.

“Why did you abduct me?” he asked, reminded of the sky.

The King curled a lock of hair around his pale finger. “I’ve told you; I wish for you to occupy me beside my throne.”

Jongdae surveyed the barren room. “I refuse. I wish to leave, so return me to the surface. My mother surely awaits.”

The strand of hair unraveled, and the King, with his shining, darkened eyes, regarded him with curious consideration. “I refuse. So, please, get comfortable, My Prince. It is your seat that awaits.”


End file.
